Quinn Bobs Her Hair
by EntrancedCat
Summary: Quinn decides to cut her hair very short.
1. The Bob

Quinn Bobs Her Hair

Daria and related characters and situations are the property of Viacom / MTV Networks. This work is strictly for the entertainment of Daria fans and not for any monetary or material gain whatsoever. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter One: The Bob

"Quinn," Daria called angrily from the bathroom. "Your hair is all over the floor again. Ish! Can't you do your hundred brush strokes in your own room? Aren't you afraid you're going to brush out your brain one of these days?"

"Darrrr-ia," Quinn exclaimed. "It takes time for my hair to reach maximum volume and the bathroom is the best place to brush with the loads and loads of warm, steamy air after a shower."

Daria grimaced, holding up evidence of Quinn's hair being all over the floor: three strands of long flaming orangish-red hair.

"Oh, thanks, Daria," Quinn said, relieving her sister of the offending tresses. "I'll take care of it."

Daria mumbled something semi-intelligible and mostly obscene at her sister's back. She finished getting ready for school and headed down to the kitchen. She pulled her cherry Pop-tarts from the toaster and loaded a plate with cut-up pineapple, melon and strawberries as Quinn come down for her usual yogurt with fruit and granola.

The sisters headed out the door. The reasonably healthy meal helped Daria forget about stepping on her sister's hair until a long, narrow plastic-coated object fell from Quinn's backpack. Daria picked it up and scrutinized it. Encased in clear adhesive plastic wrap like the kind Daria wrapped around the covers of her favorite paperback books was a strip of white cardboard. On the cardboard were long red looping, twisting strands of…

"Your hair!" Daria exclaimed. "You made your hair into a...a bookmark?"

"Oh, thanks, Daria." Quinn said, innocently retrieving the bookmark from her sister's suddenly nerveless fingers. "Yes, I give these to the boys at school if they've been good. If it helps those boys read more books or magazines or cereal boxes then I've done my bit to fight our nation's looming liberalcy problem. Hmm...now who's next in line for a bookmark? Oh, well...I'll let them figure it out themselves." Quinn carefully stowed the prize in her backpack and continued down the sidewalk.

Daria was gobsmacked at the prospect of boys relishing tokens of Quinn which were stepped on and picked off the bathroom floor; she could not even correct her sister's abysmal diction. In a black mood she trudged along besides Quinn's jaunty walk.

A block from school Quinn was intercepted by Jeffy or Joey or was it Jacky? Daria could not recall and apparently Quinn could not bring the monicker to mind either as she made no real attempt to address the fawning boy. Quinn simply gave the lad the hirsute bookmark and graciously accepted his profuse, gushing gratitude. Daria stared at the back of her sister's head with its long tresses bouncing and waving and she wondered at the inanity of the world.

As if to make up for the morning, the fates gave Daria a rare good day at Lawndale High; it rated as a good day because she was mostly ignored by teachers and students alike except for her best friend, Jane Lane. After relating the hairy incidents to Jane amid a good deal of snark at lunch, she had forgotten about the morning's sheddings off Quinn's mane, chalking it up to simply yet another inexplicable but fortunately innocuous aspect of the the alternate universe in which Quinn lived and moved and had her being. "The Quinniverse," Jane often quipped.

Near end of day Daria was browsing in the Lawndale High library for her next good read. Her eyes fell on the row of F. Scott Fitzgerald books. She had found _The Great Gatsby _to be greatly soporific but she had loved _Tender is the Night_ and was willing to give Fitzgerald another page turn or two. She chose at random a volume of collected short stories and flipped it open to near the end. The title page of "Bernice Bobs Her Hair" jerked Daria a bit more awake. _"Bobs her hair? This needs investigation."_ She stuck her nose in the tale of Bernice and Marjorie all the way home.

After her parents had gone shopping and Quinn was off on her usual Friday evening dates Daria put her hastily but well thought out plan into its first phases. She called Jane.

"Jane, I thought of a great idea to solve my problems with Quinn's hair and teach her a lesson too."

"I wasn't aware she needed a lesson other than vacuuming the bathroom floor. This sounds more like vengeance, Morgendorffer."

"So that means you don't want to hear it, Lane?" Daria asked feeling her plans sinking before launch.

"No, it means I'm listening more carefully. So speak up, time's a wastin."

"I remember you said that art gallery owner owes you a favor or two. He owns a printing company, right? And they print fake magazines with funny, customizable covers, right? What we'll do…" Daria spun out her plan and Jane gleefully refined and added details.

A week or so later Daria lay in wait for Quinn to get home from a Fashion Club meeting. When she heard Quinn begin to riffle through magazines in her room Daria called Jane. She was careful to leave her door open just enough so Quinn could hear her easily enough.

"Jane? Yeah, it's me. I'm on one of those cool, new cordless phones in my room. No, Quinn's not home, nobody but me. Jane, I can't thank your uncle enough for passing on advance copies of that cool, new fashion magazine _Meta-Mega-Waif._ That magazine will set the fashion before it happens not just report on what everyone is doing like that oh so passe rag _Waif _does. That's so yesterday. What? Yeah, I'm really doing it! I'm sick of being unpopular. I'm going to cut my hair really short like _Meta-Mega-Waif_ recommends. Yeah! The full 1920s flapper style. It'll be so rad. Then when everybody's copying that style, they'll all know I was the first to do it. Quinn and those other poseurs will be mortified. What? 'Mortified,' that means embarrassed to death. I'll be queen of the school. The boys will be eating out of my hand. Okay, Jane, gotta go, I think I hear Quinn."

Daria also had to get off the line because she wasn't sure she could keep talking that way without gagging and choking. She waited a moment then carefully rolled up one of the faux _Meta-Mega-Waif _copies which Jane's printing contact had provided. She started out from her room to the bathroom, walking slowly with the magazine's title partially, unmistakably exposed. Daria was sure she could see Quinn's green eyes regarding her like a tiger from her darkened room.

She waited in the bathroom for what she deemed an appropriate length of time then opened the slick mag to the hoax article which she and Jane had carefully penned. "1920s Are Coming Back" the headline screamed above black-and-white pictures of lovely short-coiffed women at speakeasies or parties on wide, sunny lawns. Daria put on plastic gloves and steeled herself for the next step.

"Sorry ladies," she said as she carefully held the magazine at arm's length and dropped it into the toilet. It made a satisfying, loud splash and Daria was relieved not to have suffered any splashback.

"Dammit." Daria swore loudly. She adjusted the position of the magazine in the bowl before swearing again. The gloves came off and were carefully hidden under wads of tissue and an empty shampoo bottle in the waste basket.

She rushed from the bathroom but checked herself as she came to Quinn's door. Quinn was standing in her doorway expectantly; Daria could see that Quinn suspected that something was up.

"Quinn," she said trying to act like she was both excited but trying to act calm. She could consider the logical ramifications of trying to act like she was acting at a later time. "Quinn, do you have...umm...rubber gloves I can borrow?'

Quinn folded her arms. "Rubber gloves? Why? What's up?"

Daria bounced up and down in faux exasperation. "I...umm...oh...okay, I dropped something important in the...toilet."

"Toilet! Eww." Quinn exclaimed on cue. "You so can't borrow any of my rubber gloves. You can't use them at all. I think there's a pair under the kitchen sink. Use those."

"But throw them away afterwards," Quinn called after her as Daria headed downstairs.

Daria allowed herself a tiny smirk as she put on the pink rubber gloves which she knew all along had been under the kitchen sink. So far everything was going according to her and Jane's plan including Quinn's reaction almost word-for-word. She took her time getting on the gloves and getting back to the upstairs bathroom.

As predicted she found Quinn looming above the magazine in the toilet. Quinn was peering at the mag trying to read more of the enticing article and performing stretches and poses which would have done any yoga master proud.

"Quinn! That's my magazine! Back off."

Quinn straightened up undaunted. "Who wants your grody, wet magazine? Here."

She tossed Daria a small plastic garbage bag. "Put that gross stuff in there and those gloves too."

"No, no," Daria protested. "I haven't finished reading it yet. I'm going to dry it out in a hot oven. That'll kill any germs."

"The oven!" Quinn's eyes widened in outrage and disgust. "Eww, no way! You throw that dirty thing away or I'll tell Mom."

Daria pretended to be peeved but she carefully put the mag into the trash bag, followed by the gloves. Then everything was twist-tied securely and she took the burden out to the garage to dump in the big garbage can to await disposal day. She buried it under a bag of wet kitchen rubbish, reasonably sure that even Quinn would not go looking through gross, wet trash for fashion tips. To be safe she had arranged for Jane to come by stealthily later that night and pick up the evidence. Only the cover and a couple inside pages mentioned the 1920s hair trend. The rest of the magazine was mindless filler and anyone glancing through it would have quickly realized it was some kind of joke.

Daria washed her hands several times with soap and hot water under Quinn's watchful eye. She was a little bit grossed out herself by the caper but it seemed to have come off perfectly so far. It was hard to keep a tiny smirk off her face as she acted like she was bummed out at losing something of value. The wheels were turning in Quinn's mind, Daria could tell, and that was a beginning she and Jane desired.

Even if her plan did not pan out Daria would have been satisfied with Quinn's exasperated need the next day to find out about Daria's hair secret. She had caught Quinn several times holding up her almost butt-length hair, cocking her head from side-to-side and speculatively looking at herself in the mirror. Once she heard Quinn whisper frustrated, "I just can't do it." A couple times Quinn ineptly tried to draw her out. "Daria, do you ever wonder what you'd look like with short, short hair?"

"No Quinn. Though I've often wondered what you'd look like with a bushy, bushy moustache." Quinn was uncharacteristically too caught up in thought to counter.

Jane came over one afternoon with their last copy of _Meta-Mega Waif _carefully hidden in plain view in her backpack. Jane could feel Quinn's eyes laser tracking her as she knocked on Daria's door."

"Jane, you're supposed to keep that our secret," Daria whispered in faux outrage ushering her in.

"Oh sorry, amiga." Jane whispered back in faux chagrin. The two hid in Daria's room and discussed short hair in not-so-hushed tones.

Quinn wound and whipped herself into a paroxysm of anguish over the course of that week, almost to the point of Daria having pity on her, almost. By Thursday Quinn had calmed down, clearly having made a decision.

Daria knew Quinn could go either way. She did not have a Plan B so she herself had been on pins-and-needles for much of the week. She was relieved but a bit surprised when her mother broke the news to her.

"Daria," Helen said. "Quinn's decided to cut her hair short. I think you know why but Quinn doesn't want to call any more attention to it. Anyway, I think it would mean the world to your little sister if you showed up at Harold's Hair Hut on Saturday morning at nine to support her."

"Oh Mom," Daria said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." She was a little confused at her mother's phrasing but she gleefully called her fellow conspirator and made a date to walk down to Harold's that Saturday.

The two walked arm in arm in boisterous good spirits that Saturday. It was sunny but windy and cool and Daria happily speculated that Quinn would find the breeze uncomfortable on her newly exposed neck.

A KSBC news van was parked in front of Harold's Hair Hut. A large crowd of teenage girls and boys were milling about the entrance to the shop. Daria and Jane recognized many from Lawndale High. The two conspirators' mouths simultaneously fell open at the scene and they slowed their walk. No one noticed them as they skirted the edge of the crowd.

Before the door to Harold's stood a news reporter with microphone in hand. Besides him stood a beaming long-haired Quinn.

An assistant was counting down, "And we're live in five...four...three...two...one" then he pointed at the pair.

"We're here live at Harold's Hair Hut with an amazing teen who's about to do something unusual to benefit kids in need. Quinn Morgendorffer, can you fill us in on what you and the friends you've inspired are doing today?" The reporter turned the microphone to Quinn.

"Thanks Gary," Quinn bubbled. "Everyone deserves to be popular but a lot of kids with horrible, ishy diseases like cancer don't feel they can leave the house because their treatment makes them lose their hair. Eww… Well, me and my friends have decided to cut our hair like really short and donate our hair to Hairy Caring Hands to make wigs for kids who need them. It's going to be so much fun, Gary! We're getting bobs like fabulous 1920s flappers, great stars like Clara Bow and Barbara Stanwyck. And there's more! Thanks to a marvelous pledge from Axl's Piercing Parlour we're getting ten dollars per girl from Axl and if we get twenty donations or more then Axl is throwing in another $250.00 to support Hairy Caring Hands!" Quinn raised her hands in excitement and the crowd cheered.

Quinn enthused on and on and Gary the reporter knew gold when he had it. He let Quinn prattle happily until he was forced to take a commercial break.

Quinn entered the small shop along with Sandi Griffin, Tiffany Blum-Deckler and pig-tailed Stacy Rowe. Jane and Daria turned to each other with dismayed looks. Each was feeling a good many conflicting feelings at the moment, guilt not being the least.

A short time later the foursome emerged sporting bobs that would have made Colleen Moore proud. Quinn and Tiffany and Stacy were smiling sincerely and waving at adoring boys in the crowd. Sandi was icily smiling and waving although a close observer may have speculated that the whole endeavor was not entirely to her liking. Daria had a feeling that Sandi had been out-maneuvered by Quinn on this one. Girls were lining up to be shorn in Harold's four chairs.

Daria and Jane hung around for awhile marveling at the crowd. They were considering slinking away when Gary made a startling announcement, "Folks, we have some bad news. Unless we can find another girl with hair long enough to donate, Quinn is in danger of losing the $250.00 challenge pledge from Axl's. Quinn needs at least one more girl with hair long enough. It has to be a donation of at least ten inches." Quinn was standing by his side and pouting despondently.

This set off a squabble among the boys. "Take my hair." "Yeah, Quinn you can cut off all of my hair yourself." "No mine."

Gary surveyed the crew-cut footballers with surprise. "Guys, we appreciate your enthusiasm. Hairy Caring Hands does take guys hair but any donation has to be at least ten inches long, remember."

Daria became aware then of an older woman scrutinizing her and Jane. The well-dressed woman with stylish close-cropped grey hair and strong hands looked them up and down, paying particular attention to their heads.

"Hi dearies, I'm Harold."

"You're Harold?" Daria asked.

"Yep, Maud Harold. It's my shop. Now dearie," she continued, addressing Daria. "Your hair is just long enough to be our twentieth."

She turned to Jane, "Oh dearie, I'm sorry, you've got luscious thick hair but it's too short right now." The black-haired artist looked relieved at Maud's dismissal.

Harold's attentions to Daria had not gone unnoticed by some in the crowd. Those who knew her began to chant, "Daria, Daria, Daria. Do it. Do it." Soon much of the crowd had taken up the encouraging cry.

Daria did not normally consider herself to be easily swayed by peer pressure but the mob seemed insistent. She was unable to shake her head or utter a denial as she found herself with Maud leading her by the hand through the cheering throng.

Quinn had not noticed Daria as yet but someone must have told Quinn the good news. She turned to Gary to talk on air. "Gary we have double exciting news! A twentieth girl has come forward! And...and we just got a call from Axl. He has a brave, little niece who lost all her hair to cancer. She's doing great now!" Quinn led the cheering at that.

"And so," Quinn went on. "In his niece's honor if only one girl here is willing to shave her head Axl will donate another $500.00 to a cancer research charity! Axl says just one girl for $500.00 more."

Quinn cut sight of Daria and Maud at the salon door. She gave Daria a huge, sincere smile in which Daria could not detect a hint of guile or artifice. Quinn clapped her hands and waved and beamed even wider at her mortified sister.

Maud led her to a chair. "I'll take care of you myself, dearie."

Maud wrapped a sheet around her. "Your hair's just barely long enough for a donation as it is, dearie. Shall we cut it all off? You'll be the big hero of the day. Whaddaya say, dearie?"

Daria gulped. "I say God must be having a huge belly-laugh right now. Sure, cut it all. Just one thing."

Maud prepared what to Daria looked like huge shears. "Yes, dearie? What is it?"

"Could you knock me out with chloroform first?"

Maud chuckled dryly and set to work. Jane held Daria's hand as clippers clipped and shears sheared. A mercifully short time later Daria was feeling an unusual cool sensation and regarding her bare scalp in the mirror.

Jane was looking at her with a mix of sympathy and barely suppressed humor. She scanned the top of Daria's noggin.

"I just got to get me a phrenology book to read all those knots and bumps." She opined.

"You'll be reading a few new bumps on your head if you don't shut up, Lane." Daria promised.

"Ma'am," Daria turned to Maud Harold. "Do you have a back way out? Can I just slip out your back door?"

Maud paused in her sweeping up and looked at Daria with some sympathy. "Sure, I'll show you. I've already told them what you did, dearie, and Axl came through with the dough. You're a brave, sweet girl, dearie."

As Jane and Daria were going out the alley door Maud called out encouragement. "Don't worry, dearie. Hair grows fast. About a half-inch a month, dearie."


	2. Chapter 2: Quinn Bobs Her Hair

Quinn Bobs Her Hair

Daria and related characters and situations are the property of Viacom / MTV Networks. This work is strictly for the entertainment of Daria fans and not for any monetary or material gain whatsoever. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter Two picks up immediately after Daria and Jane leave Harold's Hair Hut.

Chapter Two

Daria and Jane trudged along in silence. A few happy children playing in a park came to a stop and stared and pointed at Daria until their mothers told them that it was impolite to stare at the less fortunate.

"Ungrateful brats," Daria muttered. "Don't they know I did it for them?"

Half-way home she noticed Jane in further study of her bald pate. She stopped.

"What is it now, Lane? I swear if you paint a picture of this I'll…."

"No, no, I would never do that. Well, maybe in a year or two. I'm just taking a cultural interest in your scalping job. I'm one-eighth Lakota, you know, kemosabe."

"Well, Cochise," Daria countered. "Don't get any ideas of getting close to me with battle axes or anything. And my hair's going to be too short for months to come before it'll make a decent trophy."

"Crazy Horse."

"What?"

"You're thinking of Crazy Horse, amiga. He was Lakota. Cochise was an Apache."

Daria did not know how to thank Jane for the history lesson so they plodded the rest of the way without speaking. Daria and Jane paused on the sidewalk in front of Manse Morgendorffer.

"I'm a brave, sweet girl," Daria said quietly, half to herself remembering Maud Harold's words. Then a louder and directly to Jane. "What I mostly am right now is cold, angry, humiliated and a whole lot disgusted with myself."

Jane took her friend's hand. "Daria, look, this time karma bit us on the butts."

She changed her words after Daria glared at her. "Okay, okay, YOU got bit. I dodged the bite...uh...bullet, THIS time."

"But," Jane went on. "That doesn't change the fact that some really good things came out of the whole, freakin' mess, Daria. Some little boy or girl is gonna feel better about themselves because of your hair."

Daria's lips twitched slightly.

Jane continued, "And you didn't have to get your hair cut. You didn't have to get your head scalped. You could have said 'No.' You did it, Daria. So Axl coughed up another $750.00 for charity because of you."

The corners of Daria's lips turned upwards a couple degrees for a couple milliseconds in what passed for her as a tremendous grin.

"Yeah, you're right, Jane. I guess I did do something pretty great."

"And look," Jane waved a couple quarter-sheets of purple paper around. "Axl had some really cute guys passing out discount coupons for piercing and tattooing. And I got their numbers!"

Jane took a few steps back and half-turned in the direction of her own home. "So Morgendorffer, do you wanna get something special tattooed on your scalp while you have the chance? I was thinking a portrait of Quinn. In three, four months no one will even notice."

Jane was a runner and had a short lead. Even so Daria nearly caught her in the block or so of angry pursuit. Jane poured on the gasoline and took a commanding lead. She turned back then as Daria gave up and headed for home.

"I know your head's freezing. I'll be back later today with just what you need, Morgendorffer."

Daria just waved and walked back home. Jane was right: in the breeze her head was cold. Daria threw open the door very happy to be home off the blustery street with its staring children and mocking Lane.

A camera flash blinded her. Her father Jake bear-hugged her as mother Helen patted her on the back.

"Oh, kiddo," Jake exclaimed. "We're so proud of you. Quinn called and told us all about how you saved the day."

"Daria," Helen said, putting the camera aside. "This is going to look great on your college applications."

Jake held her at arm's length and surveyed her bald dome. Daria's heart melted as she saw sympathy wash over his face.

"But, oh, kiddo. Your hair." Jake gave his older girl a gentler hug and rocked her slowly. He scanned her face and head again.

"You know, bald like that: you do sort of look like your grandfather: Mad Dog. Oh, of course, a much prettier version."

Jake broke away and turned his eyes and fist skyward. "See Old Man? See? Your granddaughter-my girl!-did something great here. She's twice the man you ever were."

Jake's rant was uncharacteristically short as he turned back to Daria and looked thoughtful. He stroked her bald dome.

"Dad," she deadpanned. "I'm pregnant with ideas but you're not going to get good luck by rubbing my head."

"No Kiddo, but I have just the thing to grow that hair back fast!"

Jake sprinted upstairs to his bedroom bathroom. He came down with bottle half-full of green, viscous liquid. He pushed the bottle into Daria's hands.

"Here, kiddo. This keeps my hair thick and full. See? I ain't going bald yet." To demonstrate Jake shook his full head of brown hair.

Daria regarded the bottle dubiously. It reeked of turpentine and old socks. "Do I apply it topically or internally? Thanks, Dad, but I think I'll let nature take its course."

"Or you could let a cow lick your scalp. Yeah! Let's take a trip to the countryside this weekend."

"Um…I think I'll go shower. There are a lot of hair clippings down my back."

"You do that, Daria." Helen said. "We can all go out to Governor's Park tonight to celebrate you and Quinn raising so much for a good cause."

"No, no," Daria said. "I am not planning to leave the house for at least three years."

Daria turned the water as hot as she could stand and let it warm her up. A habit is a powerful thing and she dabbed a dollop of shampoo into her palm. She cursed loudly as she slapped the slippery shampoo on her noggin and lathered up her bare scalp.

A few minutes later she was lying supine with her head hanging off the foot of her bed. She had heard of phantom limb sensation and now she believed she had phantom hair sensation as she could swear she felt her absent hair pulling her head down.

Jane came by a couple hours later. She gave Daria a blue knitted cap which in color scheme and pattern and size would have made any Rastafarian proud.

"Made of alpaca and llama hair. Penny wants to import these. If I can drum up some business for her, she'll give me a nice cut. No charge to you, Daria, if you can be our walking dummy-I mean model."

"You were right the first time."

Jane adjusted the cap's floppy top which had slumped down over Daria's eyes. "There, just wear it back or to the sides."

Quinn came home then looking exceptionally cute with her new flapper bob. Quinn squealed and gave her older sister a bear-hug rivalling Jake's.

Quinn was one of the last people Daria wanted to see at the moment but she had a feeling God was not yet done with the stand-up routine. She endured Quinn's hug until the cap again lurched over her eyes.

"Quinn, Quinn, thanks but I need some breath," she gently but firmly pushed Quinn away.

Quinn held her at arm's length. "Daria, you're so brave. I could never have all my hair shaved off. I was so afraid someone would ask me. I know people expected it of me because I was the leader of the whole deal. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I mean, this bob almost makes me look cuter, as if that's possible. But cut off all my hair?! No way. Then my sweet, brave older sis came through!"

Daria thought she saw some tears twinkling in Quinn's eyes. She gamely accepted Quinn's praise and patted her back in consolation.

A few days later Daria answered the door shortly after she got home from school. Two men in sharp, well-tailored suits regarded her suspiciously. The shorter one spoke up, "We're with Dewey, Cheatham and Howe, Attys at Law. We need to speak to one, Daria Morgendorffer, about possible violations of _Waif _magazine's trademark and intellectual property."

The two were momentarily caught off guard by her Rasta cap flopping over her eyes. Daria thought fast, _"I could use the 'parody is protected' speech argument. Yeah, that's worked before. But I can't handle it right now. What I can handle right now is climbing out of my bedroom window and shimmying down the tree and speed-walking over to Jane's place."_

"Daria Morgendorffer?" She asked. "Yeah, she's home. Just a second, I'll send her down." Daria started up the stairs to Quinn's room.


	3. Author's Note

Author's Note:

I am ending _Quinn Bobs Her Hair _here although chapter two just does not seem right to me. Chapter one seemed to have a powerful, natural ending with Maud Harold's encouragement to Daria.

But chapter one also seemed to leave many things incomplete and unresolved.

I had four pages or so written after chapter one: "The Bob" but it was mostly my attempts at jokes. Upon rereading I felt the jokes did not develop or show the characters well.

So this chapter two has those jokes and an admittedly lame ending.

Many thanks to metameric1 who took the time to beta read chapter two and offered many good, imaginative suggestions. Through no fault at all of his nothing really stuck with me.

I invite you to read metameric1's submissions. He's written eleven stories for Daria fans.

I don't know if anyone is still issuing Iron Chef Challenges like I've read about from the 'heyday' of Daria fan fiction. Indeed I don't know if those had any formal or semiformal rules. So in the spirit of ignorance I am issuing a challenge here and now.

If you feel you've got a good ending for this story, please write it and submit it. I only ask a few things:

1. Keep me informed if you submit something.

2. Keep it rated K+

3. Start the ending with Jane and Daria leaving the hair salon out the alley door.

Thanks, EntrancedCat


End file.
